Reprobates

by Bridgestock, RC

  ‘That’s correct. The blade that caused his death was much thinner than this one here. I take it you have only retrieved this knife so far?’

  ‘Yes, and it has been suggested by the accused that only one knife was used,’ said Dylan.

  ‘Well, now you know different.’

  ‘Then all is not as it seems,’ said Dylan. ‘Thank you, Professor Stow.’ Dylan turned to Ned. ‘We need to have the clothing he was wearing checked over to show the two different cuts made to it by the two different blades.’

  ‘If you do find another knife I could probably tell you from the measurements if it could possibly be the one that was used. Most important to me for this particular wound is the cutting edges. The wounds to his back were created by a knife with one sharp edge, like this one. The killer wound is definitely a double-edged blade.’

  ***

  Dylan pulled into the garage on his way back to the police station, picked up some extra strong mints, and popped two directly into his mouth on his way back to the car. Only that way could he get rid of the taste of the mortuary.

  ‘What’s the score with Kirsty Gallagher, Paul?’ asked Dylan when he arrived at Harrowfield CID office.

  Detective Sergeant Paul Robinson got up from his seat and followed DI Dylan down the gangway of the Incident Room to Dylan’s office. He closed the door behind him. ‘I’ve got the team delving into her personal background and others checking the items we seized from her home but there’s nothing to get excited about yet. We’ve got no ID of the man in the photo found in her car yet either. It so bloody frustrating. I’m just waiting for that breakthrough but it appears no matter what we do we are coming up against brick walls.’

  ‘Keep going, you’ll get there,’ Dylan said.

  There was a rap at the door and Vicky Hardacre walked in. Paul Robinson nodded to his colleague and walked out.

  Vicky called back into the main office. ‘Get the coffees in, Andy, it’s your shout.’

  Dylan looked at her through half-closed eyes. ‘You mimicking me, lady?’

  ‘I’m just a chip off the old block, boss.’ Vicky chuckled.

  ‘Yeah but Andy did as you told him without a murmur. You always create a fuss.’

  ‘It’s called control boss,’ she said. Vicky made an upturned fist. ‘Control.’

  ‘Whatever. You were missed at the P.M,’ said Dylan.

  ‘I was?’ she said sheepishly. ‘Eugene?’

  ‘No, Professor Stow.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said wrinkling her nose.

  ‘He sent you a gift.’

  “He did?’ she said her eyes opening wide.

  ‘He reckons you played a part in Eugene Regis giving him a good report.’

  ‘You bet. He owes me.’ Vicky winked at Dylan.

  ‘If I was to bet on anything. I’d put my money on Ned eating the chocolates he sent you by way of a thank you by now,’ he said.

  ***

  Vicky looked out of Dylan’s door glass and eyeballed Ned who was grinning at her like the proverbial Cheshire cat from where he sat at his desk. She got up quicker than Dylan could say Jack Flash. Bolted through the door and ran down the office only to see him put the last chocolate into his mouth. With his mouth so full he couldn’t speak he offered her the empty box.

  ‘You rotten sod,’ she said taking the box from him and proceeding to stuff it in the paper bin. ‘I hope you’re bloody sick.’

  Ned swallowed hard.‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist. There is always a positive. I did you a favour. You’re fat enough,’ he said puffing his cheeks out to her disgruntled face.

  ‘That’s the last straw. I’ll get you back you’ll see,’ she said. Turning on her heels she winked at Lisa as she passed by her desk.

  ‘Whooh I’m so scared,’ he called after her with laughter in his voice.

  ‘You’re scared what?’ she called back, raising one eyebrow at Dylan as she stood before him as he sat at his desk.

  ‘I’m scared, Sarge!’ he yelled. She smiled and sat down.

  Andy walked in the office and sat next to her. ‘He will be,’ she whispered to him.

  ‘Playtime over children?’ Dylan asked.

  Vicky screwed up her face. ‘Oh, he’ll be sorry...’ she said smiling.

  ‘Right, let’s move on. You two have just had another interview with Jane Simpson.’

  Vicky and Andy nodded.

  ‘At any time did she mention using more than one weapon in the attack?’

  ‘No,’ they said in unison.

  ‘Okay, so tell me, what is she saying?’

  Dylan sat back in his chair, and resting his elbow on the arm of the chair he put his finger to his lips and listened intently.

  ‘She seemed a lot calmer than before. We now know the intruder was her ex-husband Billy Simpson. She said she immediately recognised him, from the picture – hence her reaction which she apologised for. But she swears she had no idea it was him at the time of the attack. She still maintains she thought she was fighting for her life with an unknown intruder.’

  ‘Didn’t she recognise his voice?’

  ‘She says he didn’t speak,’ said Andy.

  ‘Andy’s right, basically she confirms what she said yesterday, that she’d been watching TV, went into the kitchen to get a drink before bed and was attacked by a masked intruder. She fought for her life and managed to grab a knife which she stabbed him with.’

  ‘Did she not say yesterday that she was in the kitchen when she telephoned on the three nines and suggested he went into the hallway but she didn’t follow?’

  ‘That’s right boss and she repeated that in this morning’s interview,’ said Andy.

  ‘So next we need to be asking her how she explains where the knife was she used to stab him, which as you know was in the hallway when we arrived? The post-mortem also showed that the stab wound to the chest went straight into his heart with great force, according to Stow and it was this that caused his death.’

  ‘But you are going to lash out with every bit of strength you have if you’re being throttled like she says she was,’ Vicky said.

  ‘But could you manage that much brutality with someone’s hands around your throat? The pathologist reckons the wounds to his back were done by someone knelt above him when he was lying down. Which would explain why the knife was in the hallway wouldn’t it?’

  ‘So, she’s not being honest with us then, boss?’ Andy asked.

  ‘No, she’s not, and that’s not the only thing that’s she’s not been honest about because the post-mortem shows that there were two knives used to stab Billy Simpson. The one we have recovered is likely to be responsible for the wounds to his back but not for the chest, that actually killed him. That knife, Stow tells us, would be doubled-edged and a lot longer and thinner than the one we seized at the scene. So at present we don’t have a murder weapon.’

  ‘Why would she lie, boss?’ asked Andy.

  ‘That’s for you two to find out in the next interview.’

  ‘The bitch! She’s a bloody good actress. I was thinking what a bloody heroine she was for how she was coping,’ said Vicky.

  ‘Now what we’re saying is that she is not simply a killer in self-defence, but a premeditated murderer,’ said Andy.

  ‘That’s for us to prove. Let’s get Ned to take our exhibits to the forensic lab as a priority, what time is your next interview scheduled for?’

  ‘Half two, boss,’ Vicky said.

  ‘Okay, we will look at our interview strategy. Let’s get her to “tie herself up in knots”, before we unleash the post-mortem results on her.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jen and Maisy walked through the vets’ surgery to pick up Max.

  ‘He’s made a friend,’ said vet, Sam Gouldthorp.

  Max stood by the side of a cage his tail swishing from side to side. Behind the wire was a basset hound his big, sad brown eyes looked guilty.

  ‘That’s Meatloaf,’ she told Maisy. ‘He’s devoured
the contents of his owner’s handbag and she’s not confident she can remember everything that was in there, so he’s in for observation. He’s a regular, aren’t you, Meaty?’ she said.

  He didn’t bark but made a strange sort of half howling noise that brought a smile to Maisy’s face.

  ‘Max has lost a bit of weight but I’m sure it won’t take him long to put it back on will it, mate,’ she said ruffling his ears. ‘And remember no more chasing rodents!’

  ‘Don’t worry, he’ll be on a lead from now on whenever we take him out,’ Jen said.

  ***

  Jack Dylan was sitting in his office, door closed to avoid interruptions. His eyes were glued to the video monitor covering the interview room where Detective Constable Andy Wormald and acting Detective Sergeant Vicky Hardacre were once again sat opposite Jane Simpson. Lin Perfect was the solicitor from Perfect & Best. Lin was the taller of the two women who ran the lucrative legal practice in Harrowfield. He knew well enough that Yvonne and Lin were no fools and neither did they suffer fools gladly.

  Introductions of who was who and the caution was over. Vicky commenced the interview.

  ‘Jane, going back to our last interview. In brief, you told us that you had been drinking whilst watching television, fallen asleep, woken up around about midnight you think, and gone into the kitchen for a drink of water to take to bed, when you were attacked by a masked intruder who grabbed you from behind. In fear of your life, a violent struggle ensued during which you managed to grab a knife from the block on the kitchen worktop and you stabbed him more than once. You saw him stagger into the hallway and that’s the last you saw of him until the police arrived. On arrival they found him dead in the hallway. You didn’t know who your attacker was because of the mask until we showed you a picture of him in interview. Is that right?’

  ‘Yes. But, now I know the man to be my ex-husband Billy Simpson. I had no idea it was him at the time. I haven’t had contact with him for ages.’

  ‘What I’m thinking is that if you haven’t had contact with Billy for such a long time why would he break into your house and try and strangle you? I presume he wouldn’t have a key?’

  Jane Simpson shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘Can you think of anything that has happened recently to make him so mad that he’d want to do this to you?’

  ‘Don’t you think I’ve been asking myself the same question? I can’t believe he’d do such a thing.’

  ‘When the intruder, Billy, went into the hallway obviously wounded why didn’t you escape and raise the alarm?’

  ‘I don’t know... I guess I just froze ... I don’t know. I thought he may have left.’

  ‘But wouldn’t your front door be locked?’

  ‘Yes, but I guess he would remember I always left the key in the front door so that’s why he headed in that direction.’

  ‘Did you hear the door open and close?’

  ‘No... I don’t remember,’ she said shaking her head in short, sharp, jerky movements.

  Andy had remained silent throughout, letting Vicky ask the questions but couldn’t restrain himself any longer.

  ‘What I want to know is, why would you lie to us, Jane?’

  Jane Simpson sat bolt upright in her chair. Her whole demeanour suddenly changed. ‘I most certainly am not lying. How could you think that? You saw him with your own eyes, in that horrible mask.’

  ‘Let us not forget, what we saw at the scene was a dead man, a man that we have established you were responsible for killing,’ said Andy.

  ‘But, I didn’t mean to kill him. I thought he was going to kill me. Look at the bruising on my neck,’ she said. Jane turned her head, revealing clearly the bruising she said he had inflicted on her.

  Andy produced the clear plastic tube that contained the knife that had been recovered from the house. For the purpose of the tape he identified the exhibit using it’s unique reference number. ‘Is this the knife you used to stab Billy Simpson? For your information this was found at the side of his body.’

  ‘It is one of my knives. They were a wedding present.’

  Dylan was pleased that Vicky was allowing Andy to continue to question Jane Simpson. She clearly didn’t like his questions and he was seeing different reactions from their prisoner.

  ‘And you can confirm to me that that’s the only weapon that you used?’

  ‘Lord, I was just lucky it was in arm’s reach. I had to stop him somehow...’

  ‘You say you just lashed out at him? You don’t really know how many times you stabbed him do you?’

  ‘I just hit out. It was frantic. He was trying to strangle me for god’s sake. I didn’t count the blows.’

  She was becoming agitated and Dylan was waiting for her reaction when they told her about what the pathologist had said.

  ‘Frantic you say? Mmm...’

  Jane immediately nodded in response.

  ‘I know you’re still lying to us,’ said Andy.

  Lin Perfect looked puzzled. Her eyes shifted to look up at the camera. She knew Dylan would be observing.

  ‘What would you say if I told you from Billy Simpson’s post-mortem examination we know that two knives were used to stab him.’

  Jane Simpson’s jaw dropped.

  ‘Two different knives. And we only have one weapon. You’re not telling us the truth are you, Jane?’

  Unblinking her eyes seemed to stare right through the detective and fix on the wall behind him once more.

  Vicky took over the interview. ‘What went on, Jane? Tell me, what really happened that night? The pathologist tells us that he believes the wounds to Billy’s back, because of the angle they were inflicted mean that he was lying face down on the floor when the attack on him took place. Is he right?’

  Ms Simpson’s eyes rolled to look sideways at her solicitor but her head remained perfectly still.

  ‘I think because of the recent disclosure, I need to consult with my client before we proceed. Therefore could the interview be suspended, please,’ said Lin Perfect.

  The request was granted and arrangements were made for a further interview in two hours.

  Andy rose from his chair, that was bolted to the floor, as was the table, and he reached out to stop the tape.

  ***

  The corridor was empty as Andy and Vicky strolled back to Dylan’s office. ‘I thought she had had a lucky escape and now it appears she’s seen her ex off,’ said Andy.

  ‘There is one thing for sure, there’s a lot more she can tell us, but the thing is will she?’

  ‘She’ll spill the beans,’ he said, ‘I know it.’

  ‘Assume nothing,’ she said to him and smiled as she pushed open the double doors. ‘What’s funny, Sarge?’ asked Andy.

  ‘What’s funny? Did I just say never assume?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Seriously. It’s official, I’m turning into bloody Dylan!’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Both the interior and exterior of the Simpson murder scene was subject to a PolSA search with a qualified police search advisor. The murder weapon was to all intents and purposes remaining elusive to them.

  Dylan delivered his orders over the phone. ‘Seize any likely knife or knives from the address.’ Dylan told the search team headed by Police Sergeant Simon Clegg. ‘Can you seize any items of clothing in the laundry basket, or washing machine for examination with regard to us obtaining DNA? With a bit of luck this might provide us with the evidence to put someone else at the house.’

  ‘Send the mask off to Forensic, Ned. It doesn’t look new to me. Who knows what we might find from it?’

  ***

  Vicky and Andy were sitting opposite the DI in his office. There was a storm brewing outside. The windows rattled with the strength of the wind and in minutes it was as dark as night.

  ‘If only we had the results from Forensic right now at our fingertips,’ Dylan said. ‘Imagine how that next interview might go?’ He sat twirling his pen through his fingers as h
e deliberated. ‘Ah... Efficiency, that’s what I like to see,’ he said, as Lisa walked in with warm drinks on a tray and biscuits on a plate.

  ‘It’s all about being prepared, knowing what your first question would be...’ said Vicky. ‘Like where’s the coffee in Dylan’s case,’ she chuckled.

  ‘Ever thought about joining up?’ Dylan said turning to Lisa.

  She shook her head. ‘Not on your Nelly,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a life.’

  ‘Yeah, there is that,’ he said morosely, briefly wondering if Jen had picked Max up from the vet.

  Vicky stood. ‘Hold on, I just remembered,’ she said following Lisa out of the office. ‘I packed sandwiches this morning. Sustain me a lot better than a poxy Rich Tea,’ she said heading for the door.

  Dylan stood and looked out of the window with his cup in his hand. He looked thoughtful. ‘Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow! This storm has no pity for wise men or fools,’ he said. He turned to Andy.

  ‘King Lear,’ said Andy.

  Dylan nodded. ‘Mmm… impressed.’

  ***

  A flash of lightning was followed shortly by a crack of thunder, and a hail of frozen rain splattered the windowpane. The second strike of lightning came and the thunder roared causing them both to jump.

  ‘I’ll bloody kill him!’ Vicky stormed back into the office.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Ned, he’s only gone and eaten my sandwiches, again.’

  Dylan shook his head.

  ‘I swear I’ll have him,’ she said.

  ‘Double, double toil and trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble,’ Andy said to Dylan.

  ‘What you on about?’ asked Vicky.

  ‘Nothing.’ Dylan laughed.

  Whilst the storm did its damnedest, the three officers sat around Dylan’s desk. They discussed the next interview which would prove just as turbulent as the weather and one of Shakespeare’s plays, with any luck.

  The evidence so far was showing the detectives that all was not as it first seemed, and it was growing more apparent with each interview that Jane Simpson wasn’t telling them what really happened that night. But if she had nothing to hide why not?

  ‘Was there someone else at the house that night?’ Dylan said.